Arranged Marriage
by Aerija
Summary: To prevent war between Plegia and Ylisse, the eldest son of Ylisse and the second daughter of Plegia are to be wed.
1. Intro

Arranged Marriage - Intro

It is morning in the halidom. From above, the people can be seen flocking to the castle in festive spirits. The noise of trumpets is heard above the conversations held amongst the people. Everywhere, banners are raised and doves are released from their cages.

However, not all is well inside the castle itself. Though the castle bustles with servants and maids, all in preparation for the wedding, there remained a few who keep bitter faces. Residing inside the throne room are the three remaining members of the Ylissean royal family.

"Chrom, it's not too late to refuse." The eldest, Emmeryn, argues.

He replies, "No, sister. I refuse to allow marriage between you and that dastard of a king."

"You needn't do this, really. I'll be alright." She pleads, once more.

"No, Emm. You've sacrificed enough for this kingdom—for these people. As a prince of Ylisse, I will take on this burden." He then smiles. "Trust me, Emm, I know what I'm doing."

A look of discontent settles on the Exalt's, normally calm, features, but she resigns from further argument: "As you wish."

Lissa, the youngest, asks, "But Chrom, what about Sumia?"

He is silent first; then, speaks slowly, "Sumia understands my duty is to the kingdom."

"Still… This is so unfair." She whispers unhappily. She cocks her head downward in an effort to hide her expression.

"Life isn't always fair, Lissa. Besides," He begins, "We don't even know what the princess looks like or her personality. For all you know, she might be kind and pretty."

She humph, "Or she's an ugly elephant that looks and acts like Grima himself." She crosses her arms in distaste.

Chrom sighs. It is clear his younger sister is adamant on his bride-to-be. He runs the tips of his finger through his blue hair.

Though he would prefer a marriage out of love, an alliance between the two kingdoms is necessary to prevent war from ravaging the lands. It has been two years since their war with Gangrel, the previous ruler of Plegia, and the continent has yet to fully recover from its devastating effects. Crops continuously fail to grow and there have been an increase in bandits.

In times of troubles, it is better to side with the enemy than against him. Still, anticipation wells up within him, as he is curious to meet the Plegian princess. He hopes she is not like her father; in both looks and personality (the king is a truly horrendous sight in his mind). Phila, who announces the arrival of the Plegian royal family, interrupts his thoughts.

"Send them in, Phila."

"Yes, milady." She salutes her, before exiting the room.

"Well," Lissa sighs, "I guess this is it." She glumly states.

"At least try to be civil, Lissa." She rolls her eyes at his statement.

Guarded by knights and dark mages, the Plegians enter the throne. All eyes are on them, as the guards break formation when they near their soon-to-be allies.

The king is the one to greet first, "Why, Exalt Emmeryn, it is an honor to finally meet you in the flesh and blood."

Her eyes narrow slightly, but greets him nonetheless, "Greetings Validar." She then gestures to her right: "These are my siblings, Prince Chrom and Princess Lissa."

Chrom steps forward. "It's an honor meeting you, King Validar."

Lissa does the same, though her eyes are downcast and her sentences are mumbled.

"Ah, yes. These are my two daughters: Aversa and Robin." He addresses them indiviually, "The eldest is Aversa, while the one besides her is Robin."

Both step forward and curtsy; one with grace, while the other stumbles slightly. Her cheeks flare up as a result.

"Although not the most graceful, I hope you treat her well, Prince Chrom. Gods know what will happen if you don't." He hisses the latter part, fully implying the consequences.

Gritting his teeth, he retorts, "I am well aware of the consequences."

"Good. It's about time for the wedding to begin, correct? Come, Robin, we'll need you to prepare."

"Yes, father." Gathering the folds of her dress, she trails behind her father; her dark hair swaying behind her in tresses.

For a brief moment, as she is passing by, their eyes meet. Hers are a jaded color, while his is a faint blue. She is the one to break contact.

For the better part of the morning, he is left pondering the vacant look in her gaze.

* * *

So I probably shouldn't have started another story, but I did. Don't worry guys, I already have chapter 2 of Lost Brother underway.

Feedback is appreciated. If there are grammatical errors/other errors, feel free to point them out.


	2. The Wedding

Arranged Marriage – Chapter 2

The ceremony is held inside the church connected to the castle. It is a modest room, which can fit many, but only those of high status and of good relations are allowed to be present. The hordes of peasants can only crowd outside the doors and catch a glimpse of what is inside.

The nobles are dressed finely and chat amongst themselves; occasionally they snicker at those "plebeians" whose status is lowly compared to the elite. These snide remarks create a conflict, but all noise is silenced when they hear the creaking of old wooden doors.

The bride is, at first, hesitant and each step is careful and practiced. Her father, Validar, has his right arm linked to her left. His head is tilted upwards and he subtly gestures to his daughter to do the same. She lifts her chin up slightly and attempts to smile, though it does not chase away the anticipation she feels.

Trailing behind her is the flower girl and ring bearer. Being children, they are distracted by the length of her wedding dress and make a game out of it; whoever should step on it would lose. However, their mischief is stunted by a reprimanding look from the pastor.

As Robin nears the altar, she unconsciously grips the bouquet in her hands tighter. Her smile falters when she feels her father's arm slip from her own and when she stands adjacent to her soon-to-be-husband. The two, bride and groom, face each other as the pastor begins to speak. Chrom, who notices her discomfort, smiles in an effort to soothe her worries. It has a reverse effect and she becomes more nervous than before.

From the corners of her eyes, she is aware of the stares she receives from friend and strangers alike. Though a princess, she has never garnered much attention due to her older sister. Robin has neither the social skills nor the beauty of her sister; as a result, most of the elite found her uninteresting. She has no qualms about it however; she finds conversation between the nobles to be dull and repetitive.

Chrom, however, does not dwell on the looks he receives, because most are friends and he hardly cares for status. Instead, he takes note of the woman in front of him. She stands rigid and her eyes dart to and fro, while her knuckles turn pale from gripping the bouquet so tightly. The situation is laughable, he thinks, and he concludes she is someone who does not fare well under pressure.

Neither notices an hour has pass, yet both begin to feel the slight fatigue and boredom emanating from it. The audience themselves are slightly on edge as well; most peasants, whom were previously crowding the doors, have left the building. They have lost interest and return to previous festivities in the city. By the time the pastor is finished speaking, the bride's feet are sore and the groom is fiddling with the edges of his sleeves, removing small pieces of lint.

"Chrom of Ylisse," the pastor's voice booms, startling most awake. "Do you take Robin of Plegia to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your days?"

"I do."

"And do you," he begins to address, "Robin of Plegia take Chrom of Ylisse to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your days?"

"Yes."

The ring bearer approaches with a pillow the rings rest upon. Chrom picks up a silver band and grasps her left hand with his. He announces, "With this ring, I thee wed." He then slips the ring onto her ring finger.

She echoes his movement and does the same, saying, "With this ring, I thee wed."

"I pronounce you husband and wife," the pastor declares. "You may now kiss the bride."

The kiss is chaste and lasts for a mere second. After it is over, both are embarrassed because it feels strange and alien-like. Seconds later, the audience erupts into a cheer.

* * *

Soon after the ceremony is over, the married couple stands atop a balcony. Chrom announces to the people below, "Now comes an era of peace for all!"

The people begin to cheer loudly—shouting, and singing in joy. He watches the people's joyful faces and then looks over to his wife. The sun's rays illuminate her pale skin, while her eyes remain the color of dark mist. Though smiling, he is able to tell that her focus is elsewhere.

When the cheering dies down and the people begin to disperse, he takes his wife's hand and leads them both to the great hall, where most have gathered. Upon entering, they are greeted by a mass of congratulatory phrases. The new couple greets the guests politely, as expected.

Soon, the two are able to retreat towards the back of the room where his companions are. The first to approach them is a muscular and tan man. "Yo, Chrom! Teach sees ya got yourself married now, eh?" He slaps the blue-haired man on the back, grinning.

"Yes, Vaike, I have," he replies sarcastically. "Shepherds," he addresses the rest, "This is Robin. I hope you all will treat her well."

She bows and says, "How do you do?"

In return, the Shepherds greet her as well, albeit loudly. She cringes slightly at the reception, but acknowledges them with a nod.

As the group of friends continues to chatter amongst themselves, and Chrom's attention is diverted, Robin leaves to find her father. She weaves through the throng of people and finds her father speaking with others. She interrupts when there is a pause in their conversation.

"Ah, if you will excuse me for a moment," Validar excuses himself from further conversation. He takes her wrist into his hand.

Father and daughter exit the hall and into the privacy of the courtyard.

In a hushed voice, he asks, "Do you remember why you are here?"

"Yes, father."

His grip tightens. "You are to kill the exalt and her family and steal the Fire Emblem. If you fail to however," he pauses, grinning sinisterly. "Well, I'm sure you are aware of the consequences of your actions."

Clenching her fists, she hisses, "Yes, father."

He releases his hold on her and smiles in false kindness before returning to the grand hall. Robin collapses onto a nearby bench and caresses her wrist. Breathing shakily, she calms herself.

_I can do this_.

* * *

I had to research weddings, because I don't really watch things that involve them. With that being said, I relied on clichés and knowledge from the Internet to write the wedding scene (yay for not being married). Also, wasn't sure how to write the Vaike.

Feedback is appreciated. Grammar correction is appreciated.

Also, wanted to thank you guys for all the favorites/follows/reviews! Really made my day (as insignificant it may seem).


	3. Family - Robin

Arranged Marriage – Chapter 3

Robin loosens the gold necklace around her neck, as well as removing the silver band from her finger. Her dark, black hair is undone from its loose braid and unravels across her back in small waves. She sits in front of her vanity and dabs a piece of cloth into a small, golden bowl of water. With it, she wipes her face of the powder on her forehead and cheeks and the red paste on her lips. The party is still ongoing, but she feigns fatigue in order to avoid further socializing and the night to come. She bids her father goodbye before leaving; barely anyone notices her absence.

After she finishes, she begins to undress herself. The heavy, Ylissean dress crumples into a heap of fine silk and lace beside her bed. She struggles with the corset, and curses while doing so, but it falls as well. Dressed in only her smallclothes, she searches her closet for more comfortable and familiar Plegian clothing. She picks out a simple, lavender nightgown and settles into the soft, lightweight cotton; it is fabric that is suitable to dry, arid heat of the deserts in Plegia. Though beautiful, Ylissean clothing is much too uncomfortable, she thinks as she smoothens the wrinkles.

She then moves to a midsized, wooden chest—the one the maids have been forbidden to touch. Lifting the lid, she sets aside parchment, journals, feather quills, and tomes, as well as small mementos from her mother. Her favorite is the silver brooch her mother would wear. The center, marine gem is surrounded by smooth, untainted silver. Engraved in the precious metal is an ancient, dead language that only a scholar could decipher. Delicately, she attaches it to the front of her nightgown; cherishing the comfort it brings her.

She bites the bottom of her lips—a habit she has been lectured for, but cares not to listen to—and shifts through her small collection of texts. She plucks the newest one from the pile, a heavy book detailing the history and culture of Ylisse. Its pages have yet to be wrinkled or dog-eared and are clean from any sort of hastily scribbled notes. The pages have yet to smell like spilt tea or melted candlewax or dust that gathers when an object is lost, but found years later.

Robin carries the text, as well as a feather quill and inkwell, to the small, round wooden table that sits across the room and adjacent to the windows, which are slightly open to allow the cool breeze to enter. She begins her studies and takes notes inside the text. Eventually the last of the evening light fades into darkness. A candle is lit when the sky completely darkens. The small flame flickers from the slightest of movement and from the slight breeze outside. To prevent it from dying too soon, she pulls together the soft, velvet curtains. Her efforts are in vain however, as she falls asleep before it has completely burnt out.

When morning comes, the light filters through the openings of the expensive cloth. It shines onto her face and she grunts in annoyance. She is awakened by the sounds of yelling and wood knocking against wood. She rubs the lethargy from her eyes peers through the cracks of the curtains and down into the training area.

She notices several soldiers, recognizing a few from the evening before, training. Their numbers are few and scattered about the grounds. Some are actually training, while the others are leisurely about and taking care of chores. She continues to observe them until the majority retreat back inside the palace. Her mind is now alert; she stretches and feels the cracking of bones along her back. She decides she has spent too much time dilly-dallying and moves to the washroom.

She clears her face of the dust and dirt and the dried drool at the corners of her mouth with the cool, clear water from the basin. She glances down at her reflection in the water and sighs. Dark rings gather beneath her eyes—a result of her previous night's study. A single droplet then obscures her reflection, the ripples blurring her image.

With her right hand, she feels for a cloth lying beside the basin and proceeds to dry herself with it. Afterwards, she makes her way to her vanity and begins the tiring process of applying her makeup.

A knock on the door interrupts her midway. A voice, "Princess Robin, I have brought you your meal."

It is Tharja, she recognizes. "You may enter."

The dark mage, who has a penchant for hexes and curses, is one of two attendants Robin brought with her. Tharja enters the room carrying a tray of fruits, tea, and meat. Robin directs her to place it on top her bedside table.

"Have you been sleeping well? The trip must have been extremely stressful; although, I do have a curse to fix that," the dark mage asks, and then chuckles darkly.

Unfazed by her behavior—as the two have spent years in each other's company—Robin replies, "Thank you, but there is no need. I will adjust eventually."

"Yes, of course…" the voluptuous woman mutters. Though the two fall silent, the dark mage has yet to leave and intently stares at the other woman instead.

Robin, upon noticing, sighs and says, "I do not mean to be rude, but I wish to be left _alone_." Her attendant, though reluctant, abides by her commands and slinks out of the room without a word. The Ylissean princess sighs. Though she cares for Tharja, she is not blind to the affections her attendant carries for her—affections the princess does not and cannot return. However, she hopes the gloomy woman will fare better in Ylisse than in Plegia.

When she is finished, Robin takes the small bowl of fruit to the wooden table where her materials still remain. She eats the small; cut pieces of fruit into her mouth, while she continues to study. Her face is straight and her eyes are slightly narrowed as she reads the text beneath her. Time ticks by and, suddenly, the words mesh together and no longer stand on their own; a small pain disturbs her mind. She decides a moment of respite is needed. A walk would be nice, she thinks.

Robin shrugs off her nightgown, after she removes her mother's brooch from it first, and dresses into a more formal and suitable dress. She then slips on her wedding ring and reattaches the brooch to her chest. Satisfied with her appearance, she sets off into the grand halls of the palace.

As she slowly makes her to the garden, Robin realizes the castle is much larger and, in her opinion, more beautiful than her home in Plegia. The architectural design is similar, yet the patterns that decorate the walls are more intricate and floral. She runs the tips of her fingers over the grooves, which have slowly degraded over time.

Soon, she is at the entrance of the courtyard. The plants are vibrant and grow skyward, while the insects buzz and hum with life. Sunlight filters through the shade of the trees and dapple in the ground in small light pockets. She gazes in amazement and wonders if the rest of Ylisse is as beautiful as the sight in front of her. Though she is not unfamiliar with flowers or other beautiful vegetation, she is unused to seeing it daily. In her homeland, these types of plants can only be bought from the merchants who carry them.

_Mother would have loved these_. Her mother, from what she can remember, is a frivolous woman who loves jewels and trinkets—it is a rumor that the queen marries King Validar for this very reason—and whose background consists of dark sorcerers, shamans, and wizards. Though the people accuse the queen of great greed and of leeching the royal treasury, none could deny she is a terrible mother to her children. It is she who raises Robin on tales of past heroes and tutors her child in nearly every subject—focusing especially on the art of magic. It is she who chides her daughter and, when her husband is not aware, secretly gifts her child chocolates and other sweets. However, on a trip back from the markets in the deserts, the bandits dwelling in the sands supposedly murder her.

Robin remembers the day well—the news of her mother's death. She flinches when she remembers the gaze in her father's eyes as it settles on her. Instead of seeing grief or remorse, there is satisfaction. It is as if her mother's death is nothing but a thorn removed from his side.

In his presence, she is careful not to cry.

* * *

A/N: Apologies for the late chapter. I was stuck on chapter three on both this story and my other one. So I decided to focus this chapter on Robin and her family instead.

I tried to type more than what I had previously (1400+ words) and am focusing to improve my description of details, grammar, and developing characters. Reviews would be lovely. Thanks so much to everyone who favorite/follows this story—really makes me smile.


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